"What do you think?"
Stover mopped the sweat from his brow.
"Can't we time him with a ordinary watch?"
"Sure. We can take yours. It won't be exact, but—"
"I ain't got no watch. I bet mine last night at the Centipede.
Willie's got one, though."
"Mind you, he may be all right," Fresno repeated, reassuringly; then hearing the object of their discussion approaching with his trainer, the two strolled out through the bunk-room, Stover a prey to a new-born suspicion, Fresno musing to himself that diplomacy was not a lost art.
"You're a fine friend, you are!" Speed exploded, when he and
Glass were inside the gymnasium. "What made you say 'yes'?"
"I had to."
"Rot, Larry! You played into Fresno's hands deliberately! Now I've got to spend my evenings in bed while he sits in the hammock and sings Dearie." He shook his head gloomily. "Who knows what may happen?"
"It will do you good to get some sleep, Wally."